Page 1 of Blind Trust
1
“How much longer?”
Lyla Fox gritted her teeth at the voice echoing through the tiny earpiece. “Working on it.” She kept her voice low. “Not all of us are computer geniuses.” Like Kekoa Young, SNAP Agency’s cyberguru, who was now chuckling in her ear.
Casting a quick glance over her shoulder from her desk at the front of the office, Lyla checked exam room 4, where Gretchen was getting vitals on an elderly patient named Claude. The door was still closed. As was the door across from it. She exhaled. The last thing Lyla needed was for Dr. Castillo to catch her stealing files.
“I prefer hunky Hawaiian cybergod, or just hunky.”
“I’ll leave that nickname to Elinor.” Lyla wrinkled her nose. “Girlfriend-only material.”
“Oh, she calls me—”
“Can we keep the coms clear of unnecessary chatter?”
Lyla rolled her eyes at Nicolás’s gruff tone. She pictured the skin between his brows pinched in agitation. It made her smile. She took far too much pleasure in getting under Nicolás Garcia’s skin. He was too serious, a real— “Killjoy.”
“Pardon?”
Oof, had she said that last part aloud? Shewasn’twrong. At least not entirely. Over the last couple of years, Lyla had begun to wonder if Nicolás knew there were other emotions besides serious. She believed it had something to do with his military career,which he rarely talked about, but there were little moments when she’d seen that somber façade crack and...
The computer screen glitched and Lyla jerked forward, her sudden movement shifting the chair on wheels sideways so her knee hit the side of the desk. Ignoring the sharp pain, she watched the transfer stall at 47 percent.
“Something’s wrong.” Lyla moved the mouse, but it only caused the rotating circle of annoyance to pop up on the screen. “It’s stopped. Something’s not right.” She tapped the Enter key a couple of times, clicked the mouse.
“Stop hitting keys,” Kekoa said. “I’m going to interrupt the—”
“You’ll never guess what Porridge did this time,” a familiar female voice spoke up behind her.
Lyla’s fingers flew over the keys, but the screen wouldn’t change, so she quickly hit a button, returning it to the desktop display. She prayed Kekoa could still do whatever he was about to, and they would get the evidence they needed. Heart pounding in her ears, she spun in her chair to face Gretchen and smiled innocently. “Tell me.”
Gretchen Newhouse was a nurse in her midfifties with two grown kids who hadn’t given her any grandkids yet, so she focused all that grandmotherly love on Dr. Castillo’s patients.
She dropped her clipboard on the desk and leaned against the wall. “I couldn’t do it justice.” Thumbing at the exam room she’d just exited, she said, “You have to hear Claude tell it.”
“Don’t worry, sis, file’s downloading.” Kekoa spoke softly in her ear. “Just need a few minutes.”
“Good thing Claude likes to talk.”
Gretchen gave Lyla a strange look. “Hedoes...but it’s because he’s lonely, honey. You weren’t here when his wife, Patty, was alive. He didn’t come into the office near as much then. I think he just wants someone to talk to. Breaks my heart.”
Lyla’s too. Claude Miller was sweet and lonely andlovedtalking about his dachshund, Porridge. In the last month and a halfsince she’d been working undercover as a receptionist for Aspen Hills Medical Center, Claude came in at least once a week with a variety of issues that never really amounted to more than just a vitals check. He was a retired Army veteran unaware that the FBI suspected Dr. Castillo of fraudulently billing the VA for hundreds of thousands of dollars. And the reason Lyla was there in the first place.
“I know it causes us more work, but I’m just glad he has someplace to go.”
Lyla’s chest tightened at Gretchen’s words. She glanced at her computer screen. Right now, Kekoa was gathering evidence that would put Gretchen out of a job and leave Claude with no place to talk about Porridge. They were collateral damage that caused Lyla’s stomach to churn.
“Something isn’t right.”
Lyla jumped at Nicolás’s voice, causing Gretchen to frown. Rubbing her arms, she forced herself to shudder again. “Sorry, I got the chills.”
Gretchen looked out the window. A breeze teased the russet and gold leaves still clinging to the branches. “Farmers’ Almanacpredicts an easy winter.”
“Somebody’s tipped off the doc,” Garcia growled. “Feds are on their way.”
“We need the rest of the file.” Kekoa’s frustration was palpable. “If we don’t—”
“I know,” Lyla said and then cleared her throat when Gretchen shot her another odd look. “I’m not anxious for the snow.”
